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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24265570">When Dreams Come True</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamela_rose/pseuds/Pamela%20Rose'>Pamela Rose (pamela_rose)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dreams [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: The Original Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:20:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,437</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24265570</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamela_rose/pseuds/Pamela%20Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens in Iowa, stays in Iowa.  Or maybe not.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James T. Kirk/Spock</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dreams [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751602</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When Dreams Come True</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Published in Out of Bounds (1981)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They lay on the bed for a long time, both silent and contemplative. The lovemaking had been quick and tense—Kirk almost absentminded, Spock worried. But when the Vulcan, sensing the Captain’s emotional distance and moved to get up, Kirk stopped him.</p><p>“Don’t go, please. Stay tonight.”</p><p>Spock hesitated, then settled back again, with Kirk’s head pillowed comfortably on his shoulder. It was good to be needed, even if he wasn’t pleased by the reason he was needed tonight.</p><p>The Enterprise was in orbit around the planet of the Guardian of Forever, where they had brought a select group of scientists for the purpose of doing historical research. Neither Kirk nor Spock was happy with the assignment; it opened too many old wounds. Although they’d been bonded for nearly a year, Spock was still quite aware some memories were very painful for Kirk, and this was one of the most difficult. The Captain had said very little regarding their orders, or how he felt about coming here. But he didn’t need to.</p><p>Spock reached out to stroke back the unruly hair. “Jim . . . “ he began uncertainly, not really wanting to ask, but feeling Kirk should have the right to talk about it if he needed to. “ . . . are you thinking of Edith?”</p><p>Kirk looked startled to hear Spock bring up the name. Then he smiled and shook his head. “As a matter of fact, I wasn’t. It’s strange, I’ve been thinking of her off and on all day, but right then my mind was a million light years away.”</p><p>“Of what were you thinking?”</p><p>The smile was still in Kirk’s voice as he answered. “I was remembering the first time I ever made love.” He chuckled. “The loss of my virginity. God knows what made that come to mind.”</p><p>Spock shut his eyes, forcing himself not to grit his teeth. He really didn’t want to listen to this, but he could tell by the sound of Kirk’s voice that he was already half asleep and just rambling on without considering what he was saying.</p><p>“Her name was . . . Peg. Yes, that was it. She was one of Sam’s old girl friends, but when he was away at the university, she kind of hung around the farm now and then, hoping Mom would put in a good word for her. She wasn’t quite ready to give him up. I remember thinking she had to be the most gorgeous creature in the universe. I guess I was especially susceptible right then . . . Anyway, she just thought of me as a kid, a bothersome little brother of Sam’s. I’d just turned sixteen, and she must’ve been about twenty-one or two. But one day she came down to the lake and caught me skinny dipping . . . uh, that’s swimming in the nude. I guess she decided I wasn’t quite the kid she thought I was.” There was a lazy note of satisfaction and pride in the sleepy voice. “After that afternoon . . . she was sure I wasn’t.”</p><p>Spock clenched his jaw, trying to be patient. Kirk’s blazing self-confidence and, yes, even his vanity, was part of what attracted Spock to him so strongly—but there were times he appreciated it more than others. He’d watched Jim daydreaming over the specter of Edith all afternoon, and he simply wasn’t in the mood to hear about still another of Jim’s old loves—especially not the first.</p><p>Kirk was rubbing his cheek against the Vulcan’s shoulder, and his hands began roaming over the furred chest purposefully, as if a fresh degree of passion had been stirred by the memories. Spock lay there tensely, until Kirk became aware he was not responding.</p><p>“What’s wrong? Did I say something . . .”</p><p>“Jim,” Spock broke in tersely, “if you wish me to remain here, perhaps it would be best if we get some sleep.”</p><p>Kirk sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry if—”</p><p>“Goodnight, Jim,” Spock said firmly.</p><p>“Okay. Goodnight, Spock.”</p><p>As Kirk curled up close and dozed off, Spock remained awake and troubled. He hated this dark jealousy that plagued him, but there were times when he had difficulty controlling it. Certainly Kirk could not be faulted for being so . . . experienced before their bonding. Nor was he responsible for Spock’s lack of same.</p><p><em>Still</em>, Spock mused stubbornly, <em>why couldn’t I have been first with Jim, as he was first with me?</em></p><p>It was an irrational, illogical, and terribly selfish desire, but he couldn’t deny it existed.</p><p>To be first with Jim, now and always . . .</p><p>*  *  *</p><p>Spock was awakened by a sudden flash of sunlight on his face. He opened his eyes, but shut them again as a wave of vertigo washed over him. His time sense spun crazily, without direction. He sat up dizzily, forcing himself to subdue the sick feeling, but he was still completely disoriented.</p><p>After several minutes, he steadied himself and stood. He found he was on a dusty, uneven stretch of highway. It was a type of road that had become almost archaic on Earth for at least fifty years, and this one certainly seemed seldom used, except perhaps for farm machinery. But why did he have this inner certainty that this was Earth? And not only Earth, but Iowa? Of course, the bent and peeling road sign announcing that Des Moines was 127 kilometers was a definite clue. But how or why was he here?</p><p>Spock’s first thought was that there had been an accident with the Guardian.</p><p>It seemed the only logical answer. Well, perhaps logical was the wrong word. Nothing about this was logical. There was a farmhouse ahead, but Spock decided to skirt it until he could gather his scattered thoughts. However, as he started to turn away, a voice called to him from the garden, halting him.</p><p>“If you’re looking for the Kirk farm, you’ve found it.”</p><p>The name was like a slap in the face, although it probably shouldn’t have been such a shock. If he was on Earth, and in Iowa, it seemed almost inevitable that he should be at Kirk’s home. He faced the woman calmly. Her grey eyes were cool, more resigned than welcoming.</p><p>“You are Mrs. Kirk?” Spock asked, hardly needing to hear the answer.</p><p>“Yes. And you have to be the man George told me about.” She didn’t need to voice the fact that a Vulcan in Iowa was certainly a rare occurrence.</p><p>“He said you were interested in a quiet place to do research for the summer. I’m afraid he didn’t mention your name . . . or I don’t recall it.”</p><p>“I am Spock,” he answered, mind racing. <em>George . . . That must be Jim’s brother Sam.</em> “Did . . . George tell you how we became acquainted?”</p><p>“You were teaching one of his classes at the university, and he was hoping you’d agree to help Jimmy catch up on his schooling in exchange for using the cabin by the lake.” She regarded him suspiciously. “He did explain the situation to you, didn’t he?”</p><p>“Not in detail,” Spock evaded, trying to make sense of all this. “How old is . . . George’s brother?”</p><p>“Fifteen. He’ll be sixteen in two months, and he was planning on entering Starfleet Academy at mid-term. But he still has one more semester of school this fall, and if he doesn’t do well, his chances of being accepted . . .”</p><p>Spock only half heard what she was saying. The mention of the young Kirk’s age put everything back in perspective. <em>Of course! I am dreaming.</em> It was this time in Kirk’s life he had been resenting . . . the time when Jim first discovered love. The jealousy must have preoccupied him so totally his subconscious was creating this bizarre fantasy to satisfy his secret desire.</p><p>While Spock could not recall ever having a dream quite so real and tangible as this before, it was the only reasonable explanation.</p><p>Relief coursed through him . . . <em>just a dream</em> . . . and he realized he had been more than a little unnerved. Now he could relax and flow with this wonderfully real—and interesting—fantasy. Actually, he knew very little about this time in Kirk’s life. For some reason Jim had always seemed reticent about talking of it. So perhaps he would be able to direct this dream as he wished. After all, dreams were harmless, and he certainly had no desire to waken from this one just yet.</p><p>He realized with a start that Mrs. Kirk had stopped talking and was looking at him doubtfully. “Where are your bags?” she asked.</p><p>“Bags . . . ? Oh . . . I left them in the city. They will be sent later, if you agree that I should remain.”</p><p>“Come in the house, then. I’ll have Jimmy show you the cabin when he gets home.”</p><p>Spock followed her inside and accepted the cup of tea she offered.</p><p>After several uncomfortable moments, she said sharply, “I might as well tell you right now that I’m against this whole thing. I want my son to stay right here on Earth where he belongs. I almost lost him once, and I don’t want to go through that again.”</p><p>Spock looked up, surprised. “You do not want him to enter Starfleet?”</p><p>“I’d be a fool if I did.” Her eyes were icy, but he could sense her control was slipping. “My husband died in space—can you blame me for not wanting that to happen to my son as well?”</p><p>Spock felt it was time to change the subject. “From what . . . George has told me of his brother, I understand he is very bright. How did he come to fall behind academically?”</p><p>She seemed startled. “I thought you knew. He was on Tarsus IV.”</p><p>Spock froze. <em>Of course, Kodos . . . the massacre. The age is correct</em>. He must have been about fifteen . . . “I see,” he replied slowly.</p><p>“He was supposed to be gone for three months,” she continued. “Some kind of cadet testing. But he was gone nearly a year. He came back six weeks ago, half starved to death, sick with some kind of fever and . . . Well, you can see why I’m not in favor of any of this.”</p><p>“I understand your concern, Madame, but if he is still so determined to enter the Academy—“</p><p>“Oh, he’s determined,” she snapped. “Obsessed is more like it. I thought what happened on Tarsus IV would bring him to his senses, but it’s only made him even more stubborn. He knows his father would’ve wanted him to join Starfleet.“ Her voice was tinged with bitterness. “Sometimes I think . . .” She trailed off again and shook her head, as if dismissing the thought. “The point is, Professor Spock, it wasn’t my idea for you to come here. Jimmy doesn’t need your help.”</p><p>For a dream this was becoming somewhat complicated and Spock was becoming more intrigued every minute by the scenario his subconscious was creating.</p><p>He wasn’t ready to wake up and relinquish an opportunity to be with Jim at this age—even if it would only be a Jim conjured by his own imagination.</p><p>“Mrs. Kirk, in spite of your feelings about your son entering the service, you can hardly object to my tutoring him. It will be to his benefit whether he joins Starfleet or not.”</p><p>“You must want to use that cabin very much,” she said drily.</p><p>“It . . . will be a pleasant change from the city,” Spock replied lamely.</p><p>She observed him skeptically, but before she could speak, there was a scrape of footsteps outside and the door banged open.</p><p>“Where do you want these, Mom?” He set the sacks on the kitchen table and turned around. “I couldn’t find the—” He broke off as he noticed the Vulcan.</p><p>“I’ll put those away later, Jimmy. This is Professor Spock. You remember that George was saying he might take the cabin for the summer.”</p><p>Meeting those large, hazel eyes sent a strange tingle up Spock’s back. He wasn’t sure exactly what picture of a young Kirk his mind would produce—certainly an idealized one—but he hadn’t expected such a gut reaction from seeing him. Jim was still somewhat thin and pale from his ordeal on Tarsus IV, and the brown/blond hair was slightly too long, falling in a thick bang over the high forehead in a ragged fringe over the back of his collar. The young face had a real beauty about it, almost too delicate, but redeemed by the stubborn strength of the chin and the enormous willful eyes.</p><p>Spock recovered himself quickly. “Greetings, James Kirk.”</p><p>For a split second a secret, cautious expression flashed through the green/grey eyes, but then the boy stepped forward, transformed to an example of perfect politeness and charm. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Professor Spock. I’ve been looking forward to your arrival.”</p><p>“You might as well show him the cabin,” Mrs. Kirk said reluctantly. “He may decide he doesn’t want it after all.” She paused. “I want to talk with you alone first.”</p><p>The boy looked irritated, and Spock said hastily, “I will wait outside. It has been most gratifying to make your acquaintance, Madame.”</p><p>A few moments later their voices drifted out to where Spock stood waiting by the fence.</p><p>“I thought you were going to get a haircut, Jimmy.”</p><p>“I changed my mind. I didn’t feel like it today. And I asked you not to call me that. I’m not a kid anymore, Mom.”</p><p>“I’ve been calling you Jimmy for nearly sixteen years, and I’m not about to stop now.” There was a moment of silence. “Have you thought over what we talked about earlier?”</p><p>“It’s no use, Mom. I know how you feel, but this is something I have to do. Can’t you understand how important Starfleet is to me?”</p><p>“Because of your father,” she said bitterly.</p><p>“That’s not fair. You can’t hold what happened to Dad over my head all the time. Sure, his luck ran out . . . and mine might too, but he lived his life the way he wanted.”</p><p>“No matter what it did to me,” she retorted hotly.</p><p>“Listen, Mom, I don’t want to hurt you, but you know I’ve wanted this all my life. You’ll just have to accept it.”</p><p>“But I thought . . . after what happened to you—”</p><p>“I don’t want to argue with you anymore! Just drop it, okay?”</p><p>The door slammed defiantly, and Spock saw the boy lean back against the house for a moment, shoulders slumped. Then he recalled that the Vulcan was waiting, and straightened quickly. Spock took care to be engrossed in studying a flowering bush when the boy approached.</p><p>“The cabin is a couple of kilometers from here, if you want to take the air car?” Jim asked.</p><p>“I would prefer to walk.”</p><p>“All right. There’s a short cut through the woods.”</p><p>Spock followed him, and they walked in silence, the young Kirk seemed to be lost in his own problems, and the Vulcan didn’t feel like intruding on his thoughts. But, after a while, Spock could feel the curious gaze rest on him occasionally.</p><p>When they arrived at the cabin, Spock looked it over appreciatively. It was small and a little run down, but there was an aura of peace and serenity about the weathered wood; it blended in with the surrounding trees as if it belonged there. A short distance away the glint of sunlight off the water indicated the lake.</p><p>“Well, here it is. What do you think?” Jim asked casually, watching the Vulcan.</p><p>Spock inspected the interior, which was better kept than the outside. It was neatly, though sparsely, furnished.</p><p>“It should be adequate for my needs.”</p><p>“Really?” Jim asked suddenly. “Just what are your needs?”</p><p>Spock turned around to look at him. The tone had been polite enough, but the measuring expression was back in the hazel eyes. “I thought your mother explained that I—”</p><p>“That you wanted a quiet place to do research,” Jim finished drily. “Yes, I know all about that. What kind of research, <em>Professor</em> Spock?”</p><p>Spock stared at him, startled at the emphasis placed on the title. Before he could think of a suitable reply, the boy spoke again.</p><p>“Who are you really? Why did you come here?”</p><p>“I . . . don’t understand what you mean,” Spock evaded.</p><p>Jim waved his hand impatiently to ward off any more statements of innocence. “Don’t try to con me. I know Sam didn’t send you here. The only Vulcan professor he had—the only Vulcan he’d ever met, as a matter of fact—was named Spakk. Mom didn’t notice the difference . . . she’s tried to ignore the whole thing anyway.”</p><p>Spock’s eyebrow rose. “Obviously you noticed. Why didn’t you inform your mother I am an imposter?”</p><p>The boy flashed an impish grin. “Because I don’t really give a damn who or what you are, if you can teach me what I need to know to get in the Academy. And maybe I’m a little curious, too. I’ve never met a Vulcan before.”</p><p>Spock repressed a smile. “So you believe it would be in your own best interest if I am not discovered? Perhaps you are being hasty. I may be quite ignorant.”</p><p>Jim shrugged. “It’s worth a chance. From what I’ve heard, there aren’t many stupid Vulcans. How much do you know about physics? Or Federation government and treaties?”</p><p>“My knowledge is sufficient,” Spock replied, amused at the boy’s pragmatism.</p><p>“Well, mine isn’t. I don’t care why you’re here if you can teach me. I’m too far behind to catch up on my own.” He didn’t appear pleased at that fact, but realistic enough to accept it. For a second his eyes became distant. “I think Mom’s counting on me failing . . . but I won’t. Not if I can help it. All she needs is an excuse to get you out of here, and she’d never let anyone else come.” His gaze sharpened. “So, if you can do me some good, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Is it a deal?”</p><p>“I think we can come to an agreement. However, what about the possibility that your mother might hear from your brother?”</p><p>“No problem. He’s off-planet, working on his doctorate in biology.”</p><p>“Then we do, indeed, have a deal.”</p><p>In the days that followed, Spock spent very little time worrying about reality. He’d had dreams before that seemed to last days or weeks. He ceased to question, blocked the discrepancies between this and other dreams he’d had. If this one seemed more real and solid, so much the better. He just enjoyed it more.</p><p>Jim was delightful. He was just as bright, inquisitive, and difficult as Spock had always pictured he would be at this age. He questioned everything, listened avidly, argued hotly, and became bored easily. Sometimes it took little more than the flight of a bird, the chatter of a squirrel, or a touch of a butterfly to divert his attention. Yet, when he chose to concentrate, his mind was sharp and quick. His curiosity extended far beyond the subjects he’d mentioned. He wanted to know everything—Vulcan culture, climate, native animals, what types of ships Spock had traveled in, other places he had seen. It was sometimes hard to keep the quicksilver mind on one subject.</p><p>One hot afternoon, Spock was attempting to explain the mechanical principles of the anti-grav, while the boy was skipping flat rocks over the surface of the lake. Amused, but slightly irritated by his lack of attention, Spock said, “The ability to concentrate is vital to a starship captain.”</p><p>The boy spun around. “How did you—? I never said anything about wanting to be a captain.  Much less of a starship.”</p><p>“That is your ambition, is it not?”</p><p>Jim’s chin jutted up defiantly. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”</p><p>“It seems a logical possibility—if you can learn to focus your attention. I would not like to think of you daydreaming on the bridge during a crisis.”</p><p>The boy grinned and moved to sit beside the Vulcan on the boulder.</p><p>“You really think I could do it? You’re not just laughing at me? I know it’s a long shot. Even my father only made it to lieutenant.”</p><p>Spock looked at the beautiful, eager face, and felt an overwhelming urge to touch it, to brush back the tumble of hair that fell over the sandy eyebrows. “I am convinced you have the intelligence and drive to make an excellent captain.”</p><p>The answering smile lit the boy’s face with a special sunshine, glowing from within, radiant with all the optimism of youth. But, with one of his typical flashing change of moods, the smile dissolved and the troubled, uncertain expression returned. “Mom thinks I’m just doing this to hurt her . . . trying to follow in Dad’s footsteps or something. That I’m trying to prove something to her . . . and to myself.”</p><p>“Could she be right?” Spock asked gently.</p><p>“No! That’s not it—” He paused, thinking it over with his, also typical, honesty. “I don’t know . . . maybe that’s part of it. Especially after . . .” He trailed off, turning away.</p><p>“After what happened on Tarsus IV?” Spock finished.</p><p>Jim looked up, then glanced away, uncomfortable. “I don’t want to talk·about it.”</p><p>“If you cannot face what happened there, how do you expect to deal with other—perhaps far worse—situations that will be inevitable in your life if you achieve your ambition to command a starship? That will not be the last tragedy you will witness, or even take part in. You must realize that.”</p><p>“I realize that.“ The boy faced him, suddenly angry. “What the hell do you want? You want me to tell you the gory details?”</p><p>Spock shook his head. I know what happened. But how did it affect you? What changes did it cause within you? It is a question you must answer for yourself, not for me.”</p><p>Jim sighed, abstractly studying an ant trudging up the side of a rock, burdened by a crumb three times its size. “Okay . . . it did make me wonder . . . whether I was making the right choice. I’ve had doubts. Maybe I can’t do it. Maybe I’m not strong enough. Who have I been kidding? I’m nothing special.”</p><p>Spock wanted to deny it fervently. Instead he said, “Were your doubts caused by your fear?”</p><p>“You mean of dying? No . . . that’s not it. Oh, I was scared half out of my wits at times—especially when I wasn’t sure whether I’d be next on the list for execution. But watching Kodos was what really scared me. Listening to him reason out, with his damned twisted logic, why half of us had to die. Sorting us out coldly, efficiently—like cattle. There were even a couple of times when he almost had me convinced he was right, that it was necessary, even sane. That’s what’s frightening; that someone can have so much power, such total responsibility over other lives. Maybe he was just doing what he thought he had to for the good of all. I don’t know and, strangely enough, that’s not what’s bothering me now. I kept wondering what I would do in his place. How I would handle that terrible responsibility. And then—“ He broke off and swallowed, hands clenching into tense fists, “ . . . and then I suddenly realized that I <em>would</em> have that responsibility some day. <em>I </em>would be the one making choices on who lives or dies. And . . . I just wasn’t certain anymore if I could do that.”</p><p>He closed his eyes tightly, and Spock could see that he was trembling slightly.</p><p>“It doesn’t make any difference that Kodos is dead,” Jim said fiercely. “I’ll hate him the rest of my life. Not so much for the thousands he murdered, but for what he killed in me. My self-confidence . . . I was so damn positive I could do anything. I was going to be the best captain Starfleet ever had. Sure, I was a kid then, dreaming big dreams—but I believed I could do it. I’ve grown up a lot in the past year, and now . . . now, I’m not sure of anything . . .”</p><p>Spock had always known of Kirk’s doubts, of his continual self-searching, and his almost compulsive need to shoulder the blame for everything that happened on his ship, but now he was seeing where much of it originated.</p><p>The Vulcan touched the boy’s cheek lightly, turning his face so he could look into the troubled eyes. “The fact you have doubts is what makes me so certain you are capable of bearing those responsibilities some day. You see, Kodos had no doubts. That is the difference. The fact that you will question your decisions every step of the way is not a liability, it is a necessity. But always remember, Jim, you can question your decisions—but never doubt yourself.”</p><p>Impulsively, Spock leaned over and kissed the boy. It was almost a reflex action, an automatic gesture of comfort he had used with Jim a hundred times in the past year. He realized his mistake when Jim jerked away and rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth furiously.</p><p>“Why did you do that?” Jim asked sharply, torn between shock, anger, and curiosity.</p><p>Spock’s hand reached out involuntarily, as if trying to call back the error. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the atmosphere of closeness that had been rapidly growing between them. He wanted so much to know this boy, to be able to read the quick emotions, understand the developing psyche that would evolve into the man he loved so intensely. It was so easy to forget this was a dream—and perhaps that was good, for perhaps his subconscious knew things of Jim he did not see when his eyes were open. Now he was afraid he had spoiled his chance to pick up these precious clues.</p><p>“I . . . I am sorry,” Spock said hesitantly. “I did not intend to offend you.”</p><p>Jim looked down at the hand on his arm, a little puzzled, but not trying to pull away again. “It . . . surprised me. I didn’t think Vulcans . . . did things like that. I mean, I thought they were unemotional, logical . . .”</p><p>“I am half Human,” Spock replied, as if in explanation, although he knew it had never really explained his relationship with Kirk. It was far too simple an answer.</p><p>“Oh,” Jim said vaguely, accepting the statement as reasonable. He avoided the Vulcan’s eyes as he stood up. “Uh, I’d better be getting home. Mom will have supper waiting.” He started to walk away, but stopped and turned. He met the dark gaze almost shyly. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”</p><p>“I will be waiting,” Spock answered, relief washing through him. The gesture had obviously intrigued the boy more than it alarmed him.</p><p>Jim flashed a quick smile, and took off at an exuberant pace toward home.</p><p>For a long time Spock sat on the rock mulling over the occurrences of the day. He could feel a strange excitement building inside him, and though he tried to squelch it before it took full form in his mind, it was impossible.</p><p>The dream was heading in a definite direction now, one he had known from the beginning, but hadn’t wanted to admit to himself. He wanted to make love to the boy, awaken his sexuality, show him the joys it could bring. Although Jim was obviously precocious, this one area had been delayed by his experience on Tarsus IV. But not delayed for long, as Spock well knew. In a few weeks he would be having his first sexual union with Sam’s old girlfriend, Peg.</p><p>Spock clenched his teeth when he thought about it. He had seen the girl a couple of times since he’d been there; a slightly plump blonde with rather vacant eyes. He had also noted Jim’s expression when she was near—almost worshipping, with no small degree of arousal. There was no doubt he was sexually mature, if not emotionally. It irritated Spock to think Jim would begin that part of his life with a girl as undistinguished, and forgettable, as her.</p><p>And there rose the most difficult question—was it right to even consider changing this? He was a boy still, even if verging on manhood, and Spock felt uncomfortable with the idea of wanting him in this way. But he did want him, so badly he ached. After all, it was the real reason for this dream originally. He’d wanted to be first with Jim. Now he had the opportunity, and he would be a fool to pass it up.</p><p><em>It is merely a dream</em>, he told himself over and over. <em>A dream</em>. <em>No one will be damaged by this, least of all Jim, who is only a creation of my imagination in any case. So why does it bother me so much? I don’t want him because he’s a boy, but because he’s Jim. It may, in fact, be beneficial. Could it not be a way to bring an end to this hateful jealousy? If I take him, even if it is only in my mind, perhaps it will be enough to lay those ghosts to rest.</em></p><p>Still, in the days that passed, he hesitated, something in him rebelling against carrying through with it. Somehow, he couldn’t bear to risk losing the innocence in those wide, hazel eyes, as illogical as that thought was.</p><p>And innocence wasn’t necessarily a virtue, he reminded himself. It was nothing more than an absence of experience. Nor would the boy retain this ‘purity’ in any case. Time was running out, and Spock sensed the dream would end soon, one way or another.</p><p>Spock made his decision gradually, hardly even aware he was making it. He wasn’t sure which day it became natural to brush back the sandy hair with a slow caressing hand, or on which day it seemed automatic to put his arm around the bare shoulders when the sun dipped below the trees and the air turned chill. Perhaps the boy was not as innocent of what was taking place as Spock thought—or perhaps he was even more innocent, and it was only trust that made him lean closer and lay his tousled head on the Vulcan’s shoulder.</p><p>The boy had an affectionate and giving nature, and it was difficult to know where the line was drawn. Jim Kirk was also a very physical creature, easily and openly enjoying the warmth of the sun—or the warmth of a hand.</p><p>The time passed neither slowly nor swiftly, but hazily. Moving in a quiet drift of peaceful mornings, and lazy, sleepy afternoons, Spock took a serene joy in just watching the boy as his health returned fully, the paleness deepening into a dark gold tan, the sun bleaching the unruly hair even lighter as the days went by. He gained weight that went mostly into adolescent muscles, developing them into a sleek strength from much swimming and running. He was growing, making up for the year of lost vitality and freedom.</p><p>Finally, on one afternoon that was hotter than most, they sat together in the cool grass by the lake, Jim dressed only in cut-off pants as usual, and even Spock had discarded his shirt in the heat. Spock watched the boy as Jim idly chewed on a grass blade, staring out over the water, elbows propped on pulled up knees. Occasionally, the restlessly shifting leaves would let a spark of sunlight through to dance in the large green/gold eyes, causing him to blink and sneeze. The third time it happened, Jim turned laughing to the Vulcan, wiping the sneeze-tears from his long lashes, and lying out full length on the grass to avoid the splash of light.</p><p>Spock leaned over him, breath catching in his chest. “Jim . . .” he said very softly, gliding his hand over the bronzed arm and shoulder to cup the sculptured chin. “Would it anger you if I kissed you again?”</p><p>The boy’s eyes flew open, startled. “Why?”</p><p>Spock stroked his finger down the perfect cheek, marveling again at how clear and soft it was. Still no sign of a beard, but even the adult Kirk would have little trouble with that. “Because you’re so beautiful right now.”</p><p>Jim sat up abruptly, blushing furiously. “Damn it all, I’m not a girl!”</p><p>Spock realized his mistake. Jim was still at a sensitive age where his masculine image was all important, and the word beautiful was more of an insult than a compliment. But, when Spock thought about it, even at thirty-seven Kirk wasn’t fond of the term when applied to himself.</p><p>“Then would it be objectionable if I said it was because I love you?”</p><p>Spock was quietly amazed at how easy it was to speak those words to the boy—far easier than it was to say them to the adult Kirk at times.</p><p>Jim stared at him. “You . . . love me?”</p><p>“Yes. I would think it was apparent. Do you have any idea how you feel toward me?”</p><p>Jim blushed again. “You mean . . . do I love you? God . . . I don’t know. I. . . like you a lot, but . . . “ He looked down and began pulling up more·grass nervously. “Well, it’s not the kind of thing a guy says to another guy . . .”</p><p>“It is, if it is true,” Spock replied calmly, but his heart was pounding.</p><p>The idea appealed to the boy’s sense of honesty. He considered the statement, and nodded slowly. “I guess you’re right. If it’s true, it shouldn’t make any difference.”</p><p>Optimistically taking this as a sign of agreement, Spock leaned forward and placed his lips on Jim’s. He could feel the boy tense, but he didn’t jerk away this time. Spock moved his mouth sensuously against Jim’s, not forcing anything, just asking. The boy hesitated, then began returning the gesture, parting his lips slightly, although neither was ready to begin invading the other’s gentle mouth. It was still very experimental, still testing the viability of this new development.</p><p>Spock pulled away and searched the young face for a reaction. The boy looked thoughtful more than anything else, and a little flushed.</p><p>“Are you gay?” Jim asked Spock suddenly, his tone very matter-of-fact.</p><p>It took a second for Spock to recall this had been a slang term on Earth. “If you mean a homosexual, no, I am not.”</p><p>“Then why are you trying to seduce me?”</p><p>Spock felt an urge to laugh aloud. He could always trust Jim to consistently come up with difficult questions—and worst of all, he always expected an answer, obviously even at this age. There was a large degree of his captain’s determination and command already written in this young and stubborn face.</p><p>“Because I love you,” Spock said, shrugging. It sounded like the lamest excuse.in the world.</p><p>But Jim thought it over solemnly for a long moment. “All right,” he said at last. “I accept that. I think . . . I love you, too. At least, I’ve never felt this way about anyone else. We can . . . try it, if you want.”</p><p>Spock looked at the boy as if he’d never seen him before. Where had this carefully logical pragmatist come from? This seduction wasn’t proceeding at all as he’d pictured it would. Jim Kirk was eternally unpredictable. “What do <em>you</em> want?” Spock asked, feeling a little foolish.</p><p>Jim grinned, a tinge of red reappearing in his cheeks. “Truthfully, I guess I’m curious. That kiss was . . . nice.”</p><p>Before Spock could react to that, the boy leaned over and brushed his lips against the Vulcan’s. Spock’s arms wrapped around the tanned shoulders, and he pulled Jim close, giving in without reservation to this wonderful dream come true. All his inhibitions dissolved as he felt the cool mouth touch his. Spock moved his tongue tentatively along Jim’s lips and was startled when the boy’s tongue pushed his back and invaded his own mouth.</p><p>Evidently, the boy had some experience at kissing, if nothing else. The tongue searched the Vulcan’s mouth skillfully, teasing the roof and sides, skimming lightly over the teeth, with increasing passion.</p><p>In a moment, they found themselves lying back on the grass, pressed tightly together. The kisses stirred them both immensely, driving them to do more. Spock shifted to kiss Jim’s neck and shoulders, his hands running down the smooth body, pausing at the fastening of the shorts. He raised his head to look at the exquisite face, checking for uncertainty or doubts, but Jim’s eyes were closed and he was smiling, breath coming quicker as the Vulcan proceeded to open the fastening of the cut-offs. A low moan of pleasure escaped as Spock touched the already hardened organ. Spock tugged the shorts off and began caressing him, sliding his hand between the slim legs to cup the testicles. Jim’s hands moved restlessly over the Vulcan, reaching for his pants, stroking his erection through the material.</p><p>Spock paused to remove them quickly, then lay against the Human, moving his hips to match Jim’s, their organs touching. Their mouths locked once more as they ground together in gentle passion, until Spock sensed how near the boy was to orgasm, and quickly turned to take him in his mouth, sucking lightly. Jim cried out, gasping in delight of this new feeling. But it was Jim’s nature to want to return pleasure. He pulled the Vulcan’s hips toward him, hesitating only a second before copying Spock’s actions.</p><p>Spock knew they would both climax this way, and he was perfectly satisfied with that. He had no real desire to take Jim in any other way. Not now. It would give the boy more pain than pleasure, and Spock wanted to give him only the delight.</p><p>Spock felt Jim stiffen and shudder deliciously as he came, and Spock released Jim tenderly, lovingly. But the response was absent, as if much of the life and enthusiasm had been drained from him. Spock felt a jolt of panic, wondering if he had pushed this too fast. Yet the boy had seemed certain . . . or had it just been his usual brand of bravado?</p><p>“Are you all right, Jim?” he asked softly.</p><p>The boy opened his eyes. There was a glimmer of tears that he quickly blinked away. “I—sure I am. It just . . . wasn’t what I expected somehow. I don’t know why, but . . . it didn’t feel right. Maybe it wasn’t right. I’m sorry. I’m acting silly, I know. Like a virgin who’s just realized he isn’t . . . and who’s maybe a little confused about it.”</p><p>“Jim, it is natural for you to be—”</p><p>The boy pulled away and stood, cutting off Spock’s assurances. He put on the shorts, avoiding the Vulcan’s eyes. “I’d better go,” he said abruptly, his voice a little hoarse.</p><p>“Jim, we will talk tomorrow. Please do not be upset by this . . . “</p><p>“Yeah . . .” Kirk answered without turning. “I shouldn’t be upset . . . I shouldn’t feel so . . . “ He shook his head unable to explain it. “Goodbye, Spock.”</p><p>“Jim!” Spock called out, pleading for him to return, but the boy ignored him and continued walking until he was out of sight. Spock slumped back down on the grass, feeling confused and worried. It wasn’t supposed to work like this. The dream had been strange and unpredictable from the first, and now it seemed to be turning into a nightmare.</p><p>*  *  *</p><p>Jim didn’t return the next day. Or the next.</p><p>Spock was at the point of going to his home to seek him out, when Mrs. Kirk appeared at the cabin. She handed him an envelope, her eyes very cold.</p><p>“I don’t think you’ll be needing to stay any longer, Professor Spock. Jimmy decided to spend the remainder of the summer at his cousin’s until school starts. I know I agreed you could remain the summer, but I would prefer if you left now. I didn’t want you here to begin with, and now I think it would be best if—"</p><p>“Of course,” Spock said numbly. “I understand.” He looked at the letter in his hand, then back at her with vague inquiry, still trying to take in the sudden turn of events.</p><p>“Jimmy asked me to give this to you,” she explained. “Goodbye.”</p><p>“Uh . . . yes. Goodbye,” he responded absently, tearing open the letter as she left. It was short, but it took him some time to decipher the hurried scribble.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Spock,” the letter ran, “but it looks like I’m not so great at making the right decision after all. It’s not your fault, you didn’t force me into anything. I just have to get·away and think about all this. I do love you; I’m just not sure if it should’ve meant doing what we did. Maybe it would’ve been different someday, but right now, I’m not sure can handle it. I hope you understand. Jim.”</p><p>Spock crumpled the paper convulsively. It was so easy to read the confusion and guilt between the lines—the boy’s sudden uncertainty of who and what he was. Jim hadn’t been ready for this, and it had shaken him far more than Spock had imagined. After his experiences on Tarsus IV, his entire self-image had been altered. Instead of slowly repairing that damage, it had been shaken again in a moment—and Spock was responsible.</p><p>Spock sat down·tiredly, covering his face with shaking hands. Jim had been at a turning point in his life, a time when goals are set, resolves and dreams made or broken. Had he shattered Jim’s out of jealousy and selfishness?</p><p>Fortunately, it was only a dream.</p><p>*  *  *</p><p>The intercom woke Spock from a deep sleep. He shook his head to clear it, amazed at how disoriented he felt, and stumbled to answer the whistle.</p><p>“Spock here.”</p><p>“Mr. Spock,” Lt. Uhura’s voice answered, “the Captain wants you to report to his quarters in an hour.”</p><p>Spock glanced around in quick confusion. He’d thought he was in the Captain’s quarters—at least, he’d been there last night. When did he return to his own? He couldn’t seem to remember, and that was strange indeed. Had he walked in his sleep? Ridiculous. Yet, it had been common for him as a child. But that was years ago! Impossible now. But how had he gotten back here?</p><p>He focused his attention back to what Uhura was saying. “ . . . bring the report on the Actton II treaty.”</p><p>Again his mind whirled. <em>Actton II treaty? What is that? What is going on here?</em> Before he could demand an explanation, Uhura spoke again.</p><p>This time her voice was a little exasperated. “I’m sorry, sir, but the briefing has just been cancelled. Captain Finney remembered a call he has to make to Starfleet Headquarters. I apologize for disturbing you, Mr. Spock.”</p><p>Spock was too stunned to speak for a moment. <em>Captain <span class="u">Finney</span>? Is this some kind of insane joke?</em> But deep inside he knew it wasn’t. <em>What have I done? Could it be possible . . . ?</em></p><p>He sat very still for a long time, afraid to find out the truth. Finally, he requested the computer to list the senior personnel. They were all the same, except for one notable exception—Benjamin Finney now commanded the Enterprise. James T. Kirk was not listed at all, and never had been.</p><p>For several minutes Spock tried to quell the sick feeling that swept over him. It didn’t seem to matter how it happened, whether it was an accident with the Guardian as he’d first assumed, or if he had been sleep walking and beamed down to the planet—and he was the only other person besides the Captain who had authorization to do so. What difference did it make now how the change had occurred? It had happened—and it was his fault.</p><p>“But it was only a dream . . . ,” he tried to assure himself one last time, but it came out as a dry sob.</p><p>The guilt and dread of what he would find almost kept him from requesting more information from the computer, but he had to know—as another form of punishment to himself, if nothing else. It took only a second for the computer to dredge up the record of Lt. James T. Kirk, presently stationed on the USS Tripoli, a Light Cruiser one step below a Constitution Class starship. The record was plain, not distinguished, but solid and reliable. He had dropped out of command school in the first year, and entered security training. Which was where he remained, a good, dependable—expendable—redshirt.</p><p>Spock stared at the face on the personnel file, feeling the pain build until he knew he must scream with the anguish of it.</p><p>The face in the picture looked weary, and the eyes held the edge of defeat. It was the face of a man who was glad he had few·decisions to make.</p>
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